


Where the Grass is Greener

by FandomLife54



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Jealous Arthur, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, lots of kisses, selfless Arthur, the Knights ship it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29731980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLife54/pseuds/FandomLife54
Summary: “Merlin?” There’s something close to awe on Valamir’s face as he blatantly studies the man. “Your name’s Merlin?”His cheeks go hot under the intense gaze, more so when Arthur’s is added. He could practically hear those blue eyes swiveling back and forth between them. Composure. He needs composure. “Yes,” he clears his throat. “Merlin. Y- I am. I’m Merlin.” Some composure. “Um, please, allow me to show you your room, Your Highness.”ORKing Valamir is not all he seems. Coming from a land of magic, his view of Camelot is anything but positive and that makes any talk of a treaty between their kingdoms seem futile. Of course, the king seems to be only interested in Merlin, especially because he knows Merlin is Emrys and he sees it as his duty to whisk Merlin away from the evil place. All the attention he gives the warlock doesn't help Arthur, either, who's trying to confess a thing or two to his manservant.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 217





	Where the Grass is Greener

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! An old fic I decided to finish finally. Sorry for any errors, I'm tired and I'll do my best to reread it later to correct them. Thank you for reading (if I'm not the only one still in this fandom hahaha) and please leave some kudos and a comment if you enjoy. I thrive off of feedback. :)

“Something the matter, my lord?” The small smile on Leon’s face doesn’t waver under Arthur’s glare. A raised eyebrow to the firm grip of his sword and the poor, butchered training post in front of them tells him everything.   
  


“Obviously,” he bites but it’s a hollow sound. Anger slipping away with his strength, Arthur drops to the grass below, shoulders dipping in defeat. “It’s not working, Leon. Every time I try being ‘nicer’ to him, it ends in disaster. Am I really so terrible I can’t make a single servant happy?”

The knight spares a pitying look for his friend, settling himself on the floor next to him. “It’s more than the confession you’re worrying about, isn’t it?” Leon prods.

Arthur rips off his glove just to rake his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been trying to express my…  _ feelings _ to Merlin for over a month. I’ve listened to any and all suggestions, even Gwaine’s ‘seduction’ tactic --  _ Gods, that was mortifying _ \-- and yet… I somehow always make it worse. I couldn’t even ‘be nicer’ to him without him sneaking a potion into my drink this morning because he thought I’d been enchanted! If I’m clearly so horrible, how can I expect Merlin to stay by my side?”

“Oh, no, Princess is destroying our training grounds again,” a voice pipes from afar. Gwaine and Lancelot join them on the empty field, Gwaine wrapping an arm around Arthur’s neck. “What happened this time, huh?” Arthur just shoves Gwaine away so Leon takes a moment to explain. “You’re still trying the ‘nice’ bit? I told Elyan that Merlin would never fall for that. You should try-”

“I did and I will  _ not _ be discussing that any further.”

Gwaine’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “Oh, you did, did you? You must have done it wrong or else Merlin would be all over you right now.”

“ _ Gwaine- _ ”

“Sire, listen,” Lancelot coaxes. “I know Merlin. You don’t need to put up all these charades, he’d accept you just as you are. We all see how much you love each other. Only you two have managed to stay oblivious for so long.”

“It’s true,” Leon nods. “Look, we know you wanted no more secrets by the time the ban is lifted, but perhaps combining these confessions is putting too much pressure on yourself? Why not confess your feelings and leave the magic as a surprise for the celebration?”

“No, absolutely not.” Arthur scrubs his hands over his face. “When I announce that magic is free, I want Merlin next to me. He deserves the recognition he’s been denied all these years. The praise. And if he is to stand by my side, I need to tell him I know he’s a sorcerer… I’ll abandon my pursuit for Merlin’s heart for the time being and focus on the magic. This secret has weighed heavy on him for long enough.”

“Once he finds out you’ve been secretly working on this new law for him, he may just kiss you himself,” Lancelot chuckles. 

A pink hue covers Arthur’s cheeks as he opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“I, for one, can’t wait for this to be over,” Gwaine huffs. “Keeping our mouths shut about knowing Merlin’s secret has been a pain. He could have been a lot more relaxed if he knew he had friends on his side.”

“Which is exactly why we couldn’t tell him,” Arthur hisses. “He’d become even more careless than he already is. If I tried to defend him with the law still as it is, the council would claim he enchanted me. That’s why I told all of you.” The group meets his intense gaze. “You three, Elyan, and Percival are my knights of the roundtable. You know me better than anyone else and there is no one I trust more to watch out for my well being. I know asking you to keep an eye on Merlin these last couple of months has been difficult,” Gwaine glances away, “but I wanted you all to see with your own eyes, to understand down to your bones like I do, that, yes, Merlin is magic but he is not a threat.” Lancelot’s blush and Gwaine’s lifted brow have Arthur rolling his eyes. “Well, some of you needed proof. Now, you’re all armed with it. Use it, should Merlin ever need you to. With King Valamir arriving soon, I’m hoping you won’t have to.”

“My lord,” Leon hesitates as they all stand. “No one knows anything about this man. Our scouts did what they could but, aside from allowing magic in his kingdom, we don’t know what this man is capable of. What if this meeting does not go the way you hope?”

Arthur straightens his spine. “No matter what, by this week’s end Merlin shall be free.”

….

Under the soft light of day, Merlin trails his gaze over Arthur: his golden hair, the gentle pinkness of his cheeks, the hard line of his eyebrows as he focuses his vision ahead. Not a thing seemed out of place, yet...

“Quit fidgeting, Merlin.” 

He flinches, catching the way the other servants fail to hide their giggles. One glance from the corner of Arthur’s eye clears the grin off their faces. 

“I’m sorry, Sire, but are you sure you’re alright?” Merlin whispers loudly. It’s poor timing, he knows, but there hadn’t been another moment to spare before this. Speaking under the horns welcoming the visiting royal would have to do. “You’ve been acting very strange lately.”

“Yes, I’m fine, now stand still! You’re the one who’s going to serve King Valamir; I can’t have him knowing I assigned a jumpy idiot to his care.” Merlin pouts his lip, leaning back in place with a scowl. “And… I  _ am _ fine. Your potion worked. I’m back to normal now, see?” 

Merlin accepts the toothy, crooked smile for the tease that it is.  _ Maybe the potion worked after all _ .

Large hooves gallop to a halt before them and it feels as if the entire kingdom stands still to blink at the lone man and his horse, not a guard or knight in sight. Not even a squire. 

“King Valamir,” Arthur greets, snapping everyone back to attention. “It is an honor to welcome you to my kingdom.”

The man steps down from his steed gracefully, patting it lovingly before handing it’s reins off to a nearby servant. Merlin gapes a little when he hears the man whisper his thanks to the boy with a genuine smile curling his lip. And while the smile stays, some of the light in his eyes dies once he faces Arthur. 

“Thank you for having me, Your Majesty.” The kings clasp each other’s forearms, friendly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We can discuss official matters later. For now, I’d like to introduce you to my personal manservant, Merlin. He will be caring to your every command during your stay.”

“Merlin?” There’s something close to awe on Valamir’s face as he blatantly studies the man. “Your name’s Merlin?”

His cheeks go hot under the intense gaze, more so when Arthur’s is added. He could practically hear those blue eyes swiveling back and forth between them. Composure. He needs composure. “Yes,” he clears his throat. “Merlin. Y- I am. I’m Merlin.”  _ Some _ composure. “Um, please, allow me to show you your room, Your Highness.” 

Bending to grab the two items of luggage - ugh, Merlin  _ wished _ Arthur packed this light - he’s intercepted by a blinding smile.

“Oh, it’s alright. I’ve got it!” Every servant’s jaw drops as Valamir shuffles his own bags into his arms. The suspicion that enters Merlin’s mind is immediately washed away, neither his gut nor his magic sensing anything malicious. Still… “All set. Lead the way,” he says cheerily.

Palm gesturing to the door, Merlin allows King Valamir to enter the castle first, swinging around once the king’s back is turned to shoot a look at Arthur. The blond shrugs, eyebrows equally raised. 

Finding their way to the guest chamber in silence, Merlin tries to calm his nerves. Aside from some mildly odd behavior, he doesn’t appear to be a threat to Arthur or the kingdom.  _ Yet _ . Just as he finishes the thought, closing the door behind them, he nearly collapses against it when he sees Valamir bowing on one knee before him. 

“My lord, I’m so honored to meet you.”

Merlin thinks he can actually hear the grating gears in his mind snap. 

“Wh- I’m sorry…  _ What _ ?” He slowly realizes Valamir is still bowing. “Wait, stop! Sire! Please, don’t bow to me. I’m sorry but I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m just a servant.”

“Oh, but you’re much more than that,” Valamir grins. “You’re  _ Emrys _ !”

Ice rushes under his skin, hand shooting out in an instant and the lock slams shut on the door. 

He aims that same hand towards the king, irises blazing gold. “How do you know that name? What do you want?” 

Distantly, Merlin registers that Valamir seems genuinely saddened by his reaction. 

“Right,” he nods to himself. “Forgot where we were for a moment. I’m sorry to frighten you, my lord. I got carried away in my excitement. To answer your question, the druids informed me when I received King Arthur’s invitation to visit Camelot.” 

“The druids?” The tense air relaxes with an exhale, bright eyes fading back to blue. “The druids told you? They trusted you with my identity?”

“Yes. Though, it’s not as if I was asking. I never thought you were anything more than a story my parents used to tell me when I was young.”

Merlin refuses to drop his arm, considering Valamir cautiously. “So then why did they tell you? What did they say?”

“Only that I was going to meet you. They told me Emrys is currently serving the King of Camelot, hidden under a different name: Merlin. They seemed keen on me coming here. Who knows, maybe they want me to bring you back home with me. Wouldn’t be so bad, being somewhere you don’t go bone white when someone says your name.”

That’s when he lets his hand fall, squaring his shoulders to speak with steel in his voice. “My name is Merlin. I’m a servant for His Majesty, King Arthur, but he’s asked me to care for you during your stay. If you don’t need anything, I do have other duties to attend to.”

“I do have one request, if I may?” Merlin stands there obediently. “Just ask me already.”

Confusion wrinkles his brow. “I’m sorry?”

“I can see it in your eyes, in your stance, and in your frown. You’re thinking hard about something you can’t figure out, so just ask me. I promise not to lie.” 

Merlin gives him a wary once over before undoing his pierced lips. 

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here to see you. When I saw the letter from your king, I was ready to toss it into the fireplace. You see, I don’t care for bigoted people and I certainly didn’t want to visit a land ruled by one.”

“Arthur isn’t like his father,” Merlin states but they both hear the tiredness in his tone.

“Really?” Valamir looks every bit skeptical. “I was a child when the Purge happened. I saw men, women, and children fleeing for their lives with nowhere to go and no land to call their own. I heard the stories of sudden, unprovoked attacks from Uther’s armies. Of losing friends, families, loved ones with a single swing of a sword. As I grew, I heard about greedy landlords filling their pockets with gold. They’d taken advantage of the homes and farmland abandoned in the chaos -- collecting the fields for themselves and renting the houses at outrageous prices. Of course, the people had no choice but to pay since Uther’s men burned their villages to the ground. All in his pursuit of magic. The Purge may be over, Uther may be gone, but has your king done anything to rectify the injustice done by his father’s hand? Has he shown any sign that he will do better?  _ Be _ better?”

Merlin feels cold as stone. “Yes! I mean-” Of course he’s better. “Arthur is a good man. He trains men of any background to be his knight. He listens to them as equals at his roundtable, shows them loyalty and kindness. He is a loving king-”

“Has he shown any sign that he will do better for  _ magic? _ The ones that were  _ actually _ hurt? What about the people like you?” The stricken look on Merlin’s face is answer enough. Valamir sighs. “I am sickened at the very thought of being in this place. I’d very much rather be home with my husband, but I’m here because the druids said you were here, too. And maybe that means I’m supposed to help you in some way or take you far from this hellish land, but I’m here for whatever it is. I swear I’m not here to harm a hair on that spawn of the devil you call king. I want nothing to do with him or his kingdom.” 

The back of his eyes burn but a calm settles in his chest. He believes him. “Thank you for being honest.” 

“Anything for you, my lord.”

A light red blooms over Merlin’s cheeks. “Please stop calling me that.”

The king chuckles, the soft sound drawing Merlin’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m in very unfamiliar territory and it’s so much fun seeing a different expression on your face than blatant distrust. I understand, though. I’d be afraid too if I had magic in a place like this.” His eyes flash gold with his gin. 

Merlin breathes. “You’re a-” 

“A sorcerer. I am. So you can imagine my discomfort at the moment. I haven’t had as much time to adjust to being here as you have. I’m not supposed to admit it, being a king and all, but I’m quite terrified right now.” 

“Valamir…” Merlin catches himself. “I mean, Sire. Sorry, I-”

“No, no. It’s alright, you can call me Val. Please.” 

Merlin opened his mouth to protest then closed it, thinking. “I’ll call you Val in private if you agree to _only_ refer to me as Merlin. Not Emrys and certainly not _‘my_ _lord_.’ Deal?”

“Of course, Merlin.” 

“Thank you.” A hint of a smile finds its way to his lips. Then, his eyes widen. “Arthur… I almost forgot. His Majesty wants you to join him as he trains his knights this afternoon.”

The loud groan startles Merlin and he’s quick to stomp down his amusement at the pained look on Valamir’s face. 

“I forgot Pendragon thinks I’m here for diplomatic reasons... Very well. If you could show me to the armory?” 

Unlocking the door with a flash of his eyes, Merlin tugs it open with an easy grin on his lips. “This way, Your Highness.” 

….

Silver swords and armor glisten in the evening sun, knights gathered around to cheer on the two men center-field. Dodging swing after swing, King Valamir maneuvers seamlessly along the grass, never even lifting his sword as he seems to glide, without a shred of effort, around Gwaine’s attacks.

Arthur snaps out of his transfixed state when he notices Merlin watching from the same tree he always sits under. The stone in his hand is frozen halfway up the blade, too mesmerized by the fight to remember he’s supposed to be sharpening Excalibur. 

The utter enchantment on his face burns something in the pit of Arthur’s stomach. Now isn’t the time to dwell on it, though. Pushing the ugly feeling aside, he shifts his attention back to the duel. 

It’s impossible to hear much beyond the cheers of the crowd, so when Arthur notices Valamir saying something to Gwaine, he figures it’s likely only heard between them. Valamir lets him draw close every time he speaks, still skating by each thrust of a sword to engage in a casual conversation. It’s clearly getting to the knight, Gwaine’s movements growing more fierce, but erratic. What could they possibly be talking about? 

Before he can find out, Arthur watches Valamir spare a glance over to Merlin,  _ wink _ , then trip Gwaine with a swipe of his foot. His sword stops as it rests on the skin of the knight’s throat between one breath and the next. Cheers and calls for a personal challenge wail from the onlookers but Valamir ignores them all. Instead, his eyes are once again on Merlin and the servant is shaking his head,  _ smiling _ . 

Arthur is suddenly on the field, having to mentally claw his mind for some self-control as he puts on a friendlier expression. 

“I think you’ve damaged enough of my knights for one day; your skills are very impressive. Rest tonight and tomorrow we will begin official business.

A shadow passes behind Valamir’s eyes, but Arthur doesn’t react. 

“Very well, Your Majesty. If you’ll excuse me.” He calls Merlin over, the servant moving much faster than he has for Arthur lately. 

He tries to catch his friend’s eye before they leave, but Merlin bounds past him, trotting beside Valamir to whisper secrets with the man. 

The ugly feeling returns and Arthur hates that this time, try as he may, it won’t go away. 

….

Merlin freezes at the bottom of the staircase to his room, jacket half on, when he spots Arthur sitting at the physician’s table patiently.

“I didn’t know it was possible for you to be out of bed so early,” he teases and Arthur chuckles lightly, the sound kindling warmth in Merlin’s chest. “You didn’t wake me up, so it must not be urgent. Is there something you needed from Gauis?”

“No, I-” He clears his throat. Merlin doesn’t miss the way his fists clench at his sides as he stands up or how his gaze suddenly can’t meet his. “I wanted to speak to you.”

Merlin slowly places his satchel over his shoulder, chewing his lip. “I need to collect herbs this morning for Gaius before Valamir wakes up. Can we save it for tonight?”

“It won’t take long,” Arthur promises and it’s unsettling how vulnerable he looks right now. 

“Is everything alright? You’re never this considerate of my opinion or my time.” It’s only half a joke but his worry still skyrockets when Arthur shrinks at the words. Satchel falling to the floor, Merlin steps forward, touch hovering over Arthur’s wrist. “Hey.” The whisper floats in the silence of the room. “Tell me.” 

For a moment, he thinks Arthur is going to take his hand. “Merlin… I-”

The door creaks open and they jump apart. In walks Valamir and the man at least pretends like he saw nothing. Not that there was anything to see, of course. Merlin inwardly shakes his head. 

“Sire. I didn’t expect you to be up so early. Is there something you need?”

“Nothing medicinal, thank you. I was just on a stroll through the citadel this morning when I happened to meet your mentor, Gaius, on his way to the lower towns. He had many praises to share about you, Merlin.” 

The clench of Arthur’s jaw startles him, a sudden aggression there and gone in a second. Is he upset about Gaius praising him?...  _ Right _ . Merlin probably messed up in his duties somewhere and that’s what he’s come to talk about. Arthur has been somewhat nicer lately. His hesitation must have been him trying to find the words to correct him, gently. 

“Gaius is a kind and… patient mentor. I’ve certainly made mistakes but he’s always been there to help me find a solution.”

“A great mentor for an exceptional student, I’m sure.” Some expression, or message, passes between the kings too quickly for Merlin to catch. “He told me about your errand to collect herbs this morning. I thought I might accompany you, if you don’t mind?”

“Um...” Arthur did want to speak with him, but he also made it clear that Merlin was not to jeopardize this visit with poor service. A treaty was on the line, meaning so was Albion and Arthur’s trust. He can’t risk this. “Not at all, Sire. I was just about to leave.” The shock on Arthur’s face makes him question if he’s made another mistake. “Look,” he mumbles quietly to his king, “I’ll fix whatever mess I made as soon as I get back. Just leave me a list of the chores you want done or what you want done differently. I promise it won’t happen again.” 

Waiting for a response seems fruitless. Arthur just stands there and Merlin knows he is trying to say something, but he has to tend to their visitor. He says goodbye, telling him they’ll be back soon. Arthur doesn’t say a word as the two head out the door. 

“Is he always so eloquently spoken?” Valamir huffs and Merlin can only sigh, thinking of the lecture he’s going to get tonight. 

….

The knock rings loud in the quiet room and Arthur groans at the disturbance. Lifting his head from the table, he grumbles a rough, “ _ Enter _ .”

Leon pokes out from behind the door and one by one his knights fumble into the room. “I’m assuming the direct approach did not work then, Sire?”

“No,” he spits, the word muffled into his arms. Every move he makes feels like that of a sulking child, but he doesn’t care. Resting his cheek on his hand, he glares across his table to the door, expecting a certain raven haired servant to come in even when he knows he won’t. “Well, not exactly. King Valamir interrupted us before I could say anything.”

“Where is King Valamir?” Lancelot asks. “We expected you to be in a meeting with him already but Gwen told us she saw you come in here this morning and hadn’t come out since.” 

“He’s  _ accompanying  _ Merlin while he gathers herbs. They should have been back by now.”

“Perhaps Merlin is showing him the beauties of Camelot’s forests?” Elyan tries but Gwaine huffs a bitter laugh. 

“I don’t think this man’s sight is set on  _ trees _ .”

That has Arthur sitting up. “What do you mean?”

“Yesterday, halfway through our fight, he suddenly started asking me questions about Merlin. Whether he has family here, friends,  _ someone special.  _ I didn’t tell him a thing but I think he took that as an answer.”

Calloused fingers clench the arm of his chair. 

Percival shakes his head. “You really believe this man has his sights set on Merlin? They’ve known each other less than a day.”

“That’s all it took me,” Arthur whispers, but his knights hear him anyways. “Has anyone managed to find out more information on him?”  _ Like if he’s married.  _

_ ‘No _ .’ Damn.

He breathes in once, blowing out slowly. “Alright. Well, enough worrying about me. Go on your patrols as usual and keep an eye out for Merlin and King Valamir. With his luck, they’ve run right into bandits.”

….

Merlin stares across the lake's surface, light shimmering off the ripples Val creates as he skips rock after rock. They finished picking herbs fairly quickly and Valamir decided he wanted to stay in the forest awhile longer. 

Thoughts from his talk with Arthur that morning haunt him when he lets himself relax too much. He can’t figure out what he did wrong, so he’ll just have to redo all his chores when he gets back. Shouldn’t be terribly difficult if he can slip some magic in to help. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Merlin blinks and Val is sitting next to him, cheek resting on his knuckles. “Nothing, really. Just the chores I have to do once we return.”

Valamir hums. “You really never stop thinking about him do you?” Merlin sputters over his response so Val speaks again. “Here’s a better question: where did the name ‘Merlin’ come from?”

“Uh,” he chuckles, “it’s my name. The name my mother gave me at birth. Only the druids call me Emrys.” 

“Wait, so you didn’t know you were Emrys from the start?”

“No, not until I came to Camelot. I was raised in a small village and helped my mother farm the land. When my powers kept growing, she sent me here in hopes that Giaus could help me control them.”

“She  _ sent _ you here? Into the belly of the beast. Weren’t you scared?”

“I wasn’t afraid…  _ much _ ... Then, the moment I got here, I saw an execution.” 

“Figures,” Val mutters. “Alright, so then how did you find out you were Emrys?”

“The great dragon told me. He’s the last-”

“The gr-... _Kilgharrah_??” 

Merlin mirrors the utter bewilderment on Val’s face. “You know Kilgharrah?”

“I know  _ of  _ him. We thought he died in the purge.”

“We- Wait, who is  _ we _ ?”

Val looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “ _ We,  _ the other dragons and I.”

The world tips and Merlin nearly falls over with the rapid crash of his reality. “I…” His fingers dig into his hair, desperately trying to ground his flying thoughts. “I don’t… I don’t understand. He’s not the last of his kind?” 

“No! Gods, that would be a tragedy.”  _ Yes, Merlin knows.  _ “When the purge started, my mother ordered all of her dragonlords to summon the dragons into our kingdom. We couldn’t save them all, sadly, Uther somehow gaining a dragonlord for himself-” Merlin’s heart thumps painfully “-but still, we protected who we could. They are thriving in my land to this day.”

“Kilgharrah isn’t alone… I’m not the last dragonlord.”

“Did Uther really manage to convince everyone they were all gone?” Val gasps, “Oh! My father had his court sorcerers place a shield up once they came. It made it so any dragonlords outside the boundaries of our kingdom couldn’t be heard. That must be why Uther thought he killed them all, they stopped responding to his dragonlord’s call. Poor Kilgharrah, thinking he’s the last of his kind. His family will be ecstatic to see him again.”

The back of his throat closes as tears threaten to spill. “.. _His_ _family_?”

“Yes. They miss him terribly, as I’m sure he misses them. I need to take care of things here as quickly as possible so that I can take him home. Where is he now?”

“I sent him away from Camelot so they wouldn’t kill him. Everyone thinks he’s dead, but I can call him. I still talk to him from time to time when I need advice.”

“Excellent. When it’s time for me to leave, call him. We’ll take him home together and I can show you the many dragons of my land. You can meet other dragonlords and learn about your heritage.”

“Yes!” His smile drops and he jumps to his feet. “I mean-  _ No _ ! I- I can’t go back with you. Arthur needs me here.”

“Arthur?” Val scoffs. “You believe that man is the Once and Future King, right? That’s why you serve him.” Merlin gawks at the statement. “Who told you he’s the man from your legend?”

“I- j-... Kilgharrah did.”

“Well, clearly he’s been  _ wrong _ about a few things.”

“No!” Merlin shouts. “He’s right. I’ve seen Arthur grow and mature so much since I first met him. Sure he’s still a prat, and he can be immensely stubborn, but I know he listens to me. He listens to his people. He’s already come so far, I do believe he will be the one to unite Albion.”

“I’m sorry you believe that, but I can assure you I won’t be making any treaties with that man while he still rules in the shadow of his father. If you trust him so much, why haven’t you revealed yourself to him?” Merlin’s lips pull into a thin line. “It’s because you know who he truly is at his core and you’re afraid of him, too. I know you’re doing your best, Merlin, but what if he’s not who you think he is? I’m not saying I’m the king in the legends either, I’m just saying coming with me will give you a chance to finally be  _ free _ . To be yourself and more than the powerless servant boy.” He rises from the ground and places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing it once. “Think about it.”

They head back to Camelot in silence and Valamir leaves him to meet with Arthur. 

….

The crack of his bones truly says something, Arthur stretching his stiff muscles as he gathers the papers from the table. He had hoped speaking with King Valamir in this meeting would create some bridge between their worlds, at least throw a rope between the canyon. The most expression he got from the man was at the very beginning when he reviewed the papers laid before him. The brief curiosity sparked a little hope for their future. After that, though, the king was back to bordering his friendly disposition, answering questions briefly yet precisely. Whatever words he had roaming in his mind, it was clear he wanted to share as few of them as possible. 

At least with Arthur. 

Trudging down the empty hall, he hears the sound of voices ringing out, one of them all too familiar. 

Hmm, no. No, he needs to get back to his room to get changed for the feast. To put his documents away. He shouldn’t be snooping around his own castle like a gossip-hungry servant. He has more respect than that. He-...

Ducking behind the corner, Arthur shuts his eyes and focuses on the whispers echoing towards him. 

“.. _.Sorry…. insensitive…. Shouldn’t have said... _ ”

Arthur can’t piece any of it together. He reminds himself once again that he shouldn’t be doing this as he sneaks closer. But then, from the distance, he can just make out the lines of Merlin’s face and every shred of dignity he has disappears. 

“It’s okay. I just need more time to figure this out.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Valamir rushes. “Take all the time you need. And until you’re ready, I won’t push the matter again, I promise. For now, let’s just speak as normal people would.”

“Thank you.” Merlin visibly relaxes and Arthur wonders what exactly he has to think about that’s causing him so much stress. “Shall I help you dress for the feast, Sire?”

“I think I can manage. Those smaller buttons can be finicky at times but, you know, I could always…” 

Arthur closes his eyes to try and catch the last part of the sentence, then snaps them back open at Merlin gasps. 

“Don’t do that out here!” he whispers harshly. “Someone could see.” See what? What did he miss? There’s genuine concern on his servant’s face and a pool of doubt churns in his stomach. They’re hiding something. 

Valamir laughs softly. “Sorry, I just wanted to lighten the mood. I really do want to know more about you, Merlin. When you’re not so wary of me.” 

Merlin huffs. “We can start over? At the feast.” 

“I’d like that.” As Merlin turns to leave, Valamir catches his elbow. “One more thing, if I may?” Merlin steps closer into his space and the ugly feeling Arthur has felt since yesterday spreads into his veins, making him sick all over. “The things I share with you… I’m a private man, Merlin. I have to ask if you would keep our conversations just between us?” 

“Of course, Val.” 

Val?  _ VAL?  _

“Thank you. I’ll see you at the banquet.” 

Arthur slides down the wall long after the hall goes silent. Sludge has seemed to coat his lungs as they feel heavy and useless. 

Breath. Just breath. That should be easy enough, right?

He needs to get ready for the feast. 

….

The feast goes better than Merlin could have hoped for. After mingling for a bit, Merlin staying close to Valamir’s side with a pitcher of wine, they manage to distance themselves enough that Merlin can ask some questions of his own. 

Valamir’s kingdom stretches to the coast and his castle stands tall enough to see the ocean from his bedroom balcony. There are schools for those who want to want to learn magic, teachers taking students far and wide to heal the sick and sew life into the land for farmers. Dragonlords travel to a nearby forest that spans high up a mountainside where the dragons live. It all sounds so enchanting.

But the best part of their conversation, by far, is when Merlin asks Val about his husband. A glow overtakes his face, happiness exuding from every pore as he tells story after story of their adventures. Merlin snorts obnoxiously more than once and they’re really too loud when they get going, but he doesn’t care. It’s fun hearing about these things so casually, even if they do have to keep their voices hushed most of the time. 

From the corner of his eye, he catches Arthur staring at him. He knows he didn’t complete all his chores before the feast began, but he finished most of them! Hopefully, he’s not still angry. 

“By the way, how did your meeting with Arthur go?” 

Valamir glances over to the mentioned king, less tense than he was earlier in the woods. “Well, I think.”

“Really?” A smile overtakes his face. “I’m glad. I hope you’ll soon see him as I do. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, you seem to think so.” Merlin’s insides twist, worried he’s started them towards a repeat of this morning. “Convince me.” 

Valamir plops down at an empty table, gesturing to the seat opposite of him. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. I know hundreds of stories about Uther, but I must admit I have not heard much about Arthur. I assumed he was going to be as vile as his father -- as condescending, as self-righteous.”

“He can be a bit of a prat at times,” Merlin smirks. 

“I’m sure. I can see he’s... different, yet I find myself still afraid of him. Perhaps if I look at him through someone else’s eyes -- your eyes -- I’ll see more than a man who could bring war to my front gates.”

“Arthur wouldn’t do that.”

“Uther nearly did.” Merlin frowns. “He found out about his people taking refuge in our kingdom during his slaughter. He wanted them back, bound and chained, ready to burn. That wasn’t going to happen, obviously, but some men don’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer. Luckily, my father was just as stubborn and my mother twice as fierce. They made it clear where we stood, and Uther backed down.”

“I had no idea. I don’t think Arthur does, either.”

“I can’t imagine Uther would allow word of a magical sanctuary to go around. It’s probably why King Arthur seems to know so little about my land. Uther could never stand the humiliation of failure.” 

Merlin can’t hold back the question any longer. “Is that why you came here alone? Because you thought Arthur was just like his father?”

Valamir covers the slight tremor in his hand. “No one deserves to be somewhere they’re not welcome.” His grip tightens. “My husband cried when I told him I was coming. He and my staff all thought it was a death sentence to come here, and I can’t say I didn’t think the same. They wanted to come with me, but I wasn’t going to put a single one of them at risk.”

“Val,” Merlin places his hand over his and the shaking stops, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The tension slides off his shoulder, something light and soft taking its place. “Thank you.” 

A glimpse of blond hair disappears out the door and, with a glance to the moon shining bright through the windows, Merlin realizes Arthur is going to bed. A brief sadness passes his heart. Maybe they could talk tomorrow. 

“So,” he turns back to Valamir. “Arthur. I guess I’ll start from the beginning.”

….

Arthur is tightening the last strap on his horse when Valamir joins them in the stables. Looking to his knights, they seem to share the same line of thought. 

“King Valamir, good morning… Where’s Merlin?”

“Still sleeping, I presume.” He lifts his saddle onto his horse, brushing his fingers through it’s hair a few times before working on the straps. “We were up late so I figured it was fine if he slept through his duties this morning.” 

Turning away saves him from Valamir seeing his expression, but not Leon, Gwaine, or Elyan. “That was very generous of you. I’m sure he’ll be grateful.”

“It’s nothing really. Besides, he was the one doing me the favor last night.”

A furious blush bursts over Arthur’s face and he bites his tongue, a silent scream reverberating through his chest. 

“Right, then. I think it’s time we get on with our patrol,” Leon chimes, climbing onto his horse. The rest follow suit and they head out the front gates and into the lush greenery. 

They discuss various topics as they patrol the forest, Valamir giving vague responses that only hint at his personal life as king. Arthur manages to go the whole time without asking if he has a consort waiting for him back home, but it’s a close thing. They’re nearly halfway back to the castle when Valamir spots a deer in the distance, it’s ears perking up before it runs the other direction. 

“That reminds me of something Merlin said last night. King Arthur, were you really turned you into a donkey?”

Arthur squawks, indignant. “I did not  _ turn into _ a donkey. I… merely grew ears like one.” 

“And brayed like one, too,” Elyan chuckles, acting innocent when Arthur throws a vexed look his way. “What? Gwen told me.” 

“Oh, Gwen. Merlin told me about her, too. Your future consort, correct?”

Confusion sweeps over their faces. “Consort? No. Guinevere is just a close friend of mine. Merlin told you we were together?”

“He seemed convinced you two were destined.” 

“Where in all of Albion did he get that idea?” he mutters to himself. 

_ Wait _ . If Merlin thinks he’s in love with Gwen... 

A thunder of roars explode through the air, bandits charging from all around. Arthur calls to his men, leaping from his horse and drawing his sword. 

The clang of metal and growls of men shake the very ground, the fight throwing their morning into chaos. Swinging and blocking left and right, Arthur does his best to scan the dense forest and estimate the number of attackers. They seem to be pouring out of the trees. Kicking his most recent victim to the ground, he searches for his knights. Then, he sees it.

“GWAINE, WATCH OUT!” 

His heart stops as his mind tries to comprehend what is-  _ was  _ about to happen. The sword merely touches Gwaine’s back before it and the bandit holding it are thrown aside, crashing against a tree. Arthur tears his eyes away to find Valamir with his hand raised and his irises shining gold. 

Only a moment is spared to absorb that information, their attention drawn back to the fight. The rest are taken down quickly, many fleeing at the sight of Valamir’s magic, and Arthur doesn’t miss the tightness in his jaw when one screams ‘ _ Monster!’  _ as they escape. 

Just when the battle seems done, they all turn towards the sound of rustling, an arrow flying right past Valamir’s head. 

  
They stand, stunned, at the sight of Merlin, sword in hand, slicing through a lone marauder’s bow. 

Tossing the broken pieces away, the bandit draws his knife and leaps. Arthur snaps out of his daze, seeing red, and jumps into action. Not that he’d ever admit it, but his servant manages a few decent blocks by the time he puts himself between him and the attacker. Maybe he did learn something all those hours watching him train his knights. 

Pulling his sword from the corpse’s chest, Arthur spins around, breathless. “Merlin-” 

“YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP!” 

Merlin glares at him -- a crazed look on his face -- and he’s clearly expecting some explanation but Arthur can really only stop and stare, taking in his sharp eyes and petulant pout. Gods, he’s missed him these last few days. 

“It’s the job of the servant to wake their master, Merlin. Not the other way around.”

Merlin puffs up his chest, a smile tugging his lips. But, before he could retort, he’s being hauled away into someone else’s arms. 

“Merlin!” Valamir squeezes him tight and Arthur has to cast his gaze away. “Thank you! You really-...” Crimson fingers pull away, all eyes trailing their path back to the source. “Merlin, you’re bleeding.”

Heart leaping to his throat, Arthur clutches Merlin’s wrist, dragging him close to spin him around. Red is slowly blooming through the layers of fabric covering his back. 

“Ah,” Merlin twists his head, trying to see. “I had to fight through a couple of men just to reach you guys. I thought they missed me.” 

The cut runs around a hand’s-length through his jacket, but Arthur needs to remove the material so he can see the skin beneath. Just as he gets a firm grip on his panic, Merlin is once again tugged out of his reach. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to Gaius immediately. Your Highness,” Arthur squares his shoulders at the address, “finish your patrol with your knights. When you return to Camelot, I’d like to finish what we started.” 

A pang of fear hits Arthur at what the end of Valamir’s stay means for Merlin. 

….

The door to his room creaks open and Merlin smiles as Lancelot pokes his head inside. 

“I heard from the others you were injured this morning. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I only needed a couple of stitches, but Gaius insisted I not return to my duties. So, I’ve been here all day, reading in bed.”

“Stitches?” Lancelot gapes. “Arthur said it was hardly a scratch.”

“Yes, I’m sure he did,” Merlin chuckles but he can see the sorrow etched in Lancelot’s eyes. “Really, it’s fine. You know I’ve had worse.”

“I do.” There’s a heavy undertone to the words. “Were you using your magic when it happened or…?”

“No… Part of me wanted to use my magic to reach the others as quickly as possible, but I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t know where they were or who might see if I did. As for the other part of me, it’s a habit, hiding my magic. I didn’t even think to use it before picking up one of the bandit’s swords and rushing in to find them.” 

“And you did. Just in time.” Merlin hums lightly. “Leon told me that, during the battle, one of the men nearly impaled Gwaine from behind. King Valamir used his magic to stop him.”

His gaze dives to the floor. “Did he? I’ll have to be sure to thank him. Camelot wouldn’t be the same without Gwaine here to stir up trouble.”

“You don’t seem surprised that he has magic.” Merlin opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. “Have you learned a lot while serving him? The two of you seem close for only knowing each other a few days.”

“I could say the same for the two of us when we first met,” Merlin defends. 

That seems to jostle him. 

“Hold on, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, Merlin. I’m glad you two are getting along.” Something on Merlin’s face must call his bluff. “Alright,” he deflates. “I will admit, the rest of us are a little jealous. You two caught on much faster and deeper than we could have imagined. Seeing you so happy with him… Well, we’re afraid he might just whisk you away to his mysterious, far-off land.”

“That’s-” The words die on his tongue. 

Lancelot takes the book from his hands, placing it aside and perching himself at the edge of the bed. “It’s alright, Merlin. It’s me, you can tell me.” 

A devastating crack in Merlin’s mask crumbles, his vision blurring. “... I -…” 

Their hands cup together -- one of them squeezing first, Merlin can’t tell. “Tell me.”

Tears flood his cheeks, a sob breaking from his throat as he buries his head in Lancelot’s chest. 

“ _ I have to go _ ,” he chokes, another wave of tears streaming down his face. “It’s amazing, Lance. His home, it’s- I can’t describe it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. The magic, the freedom, the  _ acceptance _ .” His fingers clutch the fabric around his heart, fist pressing against his sternum. “But it’s not with  _ Arthur.  _ It’s not with you or Gwen or Gaius. It’s not Camelot, and it hurts because I don’t know if it ever  _ could _ be like that here. I mean, what if Arthur never changes his mind about magic? I can’t keep lying to him. I don’t  _ want  _ to. But if he never sees magic for what it really is and I have to hide who I am forever...I can’t- I  _ can’t _ ,” he cries, a small, painful sound. “I have to see it, or I’ll regret it forever. I know I will. I just need to be there, to experience it once and then I’ll come back. I will. But… I can’t  _ not _ go with him.”

Lancelot holds him close, chin resting on the top of his head. “Then, you should go.”

“What do I even tell Arthur?”

“The truth. The  _ whole  _ truth. He’ll understand, Merlin, he loves you. He just wants you to be happy. We all do.”

“Even if he did love me, he couldn’t possibly forgive all the things I’ve hid from him. I’ll have to think of something else to tell him. What’s one more lie, right?” Merlin heaves in a breath, smiling as he pulls away from his friend. “Thank you for listening. I’m grateful I have someone to talk to.”

“Anytime… Anyways, Arthur wanted me to let you know his meeting with Valamir will most likely run late so the kings won’t be needing your assistance tonight.”

Merlin snorts. “The prat. He could have just said he’s giving me the night off because of my injury.”

“Ah, ah. Then he’d have to admit he cared.” They laugh together in the soft evening light. “Goodnight, Merlin. Rest easy.”

“Goodnight.”

….

Arthur watches the sun rise over the horizon, long shadows shrinking as the dark is overcome with light. 

Today’s the day. It’s his last chance to confess to Merlin before he lifts the ban. The racing of his heart betrays his cool facade as he makes his way to the physician’s quarters. Nerves frayed, he nearly jumps out of his skin as he bumps into something.

“Gaius!” he squeaks, clearing his voice before speaking again. “My apologies. I was just on my way to speak to Merlin.”

The old man, in all his wisdom, simply raises a knowing brow. “I’m afraid Merlin is not in his room, Sire. He left with King Valamir a while ago.”

His stomach drops. “ _ What… _ ?”

“Ah, Gwen,” Gaius greets, oblivious to Arthur’s mental break. “Did you happen to see which way Merlin and King Valamir went earlier?”

_ Oh.  _ Right. Gaius didn’t mean Merlin  _ left _ with King Valamir. Obviously, they’re both still here. In Camelot. Even so, Arthur has to repeat the thought to himself a few times to calm the ache he feels. 

“I overheard some maids saying they saw them walking into the forest. I think they fancy the king, they’re always watching him,” she giggles. 

“Very well, I’ll just… do something else until they return.” 

It’s pure coincidence that he decides to take off in the direction of the citadel. Honest.

He’s halfway down the stairs when Gwen yells, “They turned west out the front gate!” 

“ _ Thank you!”  _

Trying his best not to look like a fool, Arthur charges towards the front gates in a pace faster than a brisk walk but just shy of  _ sprinting.  _

“Arthur, mate,” Gwaine laughs, jogging up beside him. “ _Your_ _face_ \- Wow. The last time I saw you this worked up was when...” Arthur halts, dragging both of his hands over his face. It does nothing to relax the firm lines of his scowl. “... when I was flirting with Merlin,” he finishes. “It’s Valamir, right? They’re off alone again.”

“I just need to speak with Merlin,” he grits between his teeth. 

“Alright. Let’s go then.” Arthur gapes at him. “Your time’s almost up. I’m gonna make sure you don’t waste it this time. Come on.” He’s running before the blond can even reply, and they make their way through the forest together. 

The search doesn’t last very long before voices could be heard in the distance. It’s cowardice more than caution that has him dragging Gwaine down with him behind a tree. He wants to know. He  _ has _ to know. So, they listen.

….

“-and then I’ll introduce you to my grand council. They’ll be very pleased to meet you. After that, we can finally head out to-... Merlin?”

Flinching, Merlin blinks back into the present. “Hm? Oh yes, your council.”

Valamir shares a pitying look. “What’s troubling you?”

Merlin sighs. “I still haven’t told Arthur.”

“Are you afraid he won’t let you go?”

“No.” A pause. “Yes? I don’t know, but it’s not that. I’m worried that something will happen if I leave. What if Mercia suddenly tries to wage war again? Or what if another sorcerer hell-bent on revenge gets into the castle? Gods forbid, what if Arthur’s put under another love spell?!” 

“Then his knights will surely defend him. You’re not his only savior, Merlin. Try as you might, his life is not solely in your hands.”

“I know, but I should be here to protect it as much as I can. If something were to happen to him-”

“Hey, hey. It’s alright,” Valamir shushes, cupping the back of his neck and leaning close. “Listen. I know you’re scared, but I also know you’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not brave,” Merlin shakes his head. 

“You are. You’ve given your heart to a kingdom that would rather have your head on the faith that things will change someday. You jump into battle without a single piece of armor and defend with the risk of being caught. You’ve faced monsters of all shapes and forms to protect what you love, and you didn’t take credit once. You’re not just brave, Merlin. You’re magic. Inside and out.” He leans forward to wrap Merlin in a hug, the next words a whisper in his ear. “I know I can’t convince you to stay with me, but may I do one thing before we leave to my kingdom.”

Merlin pulls back and nods. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Well, this is typically done on one knee. Do you mind?” Merlin’s eyes shine bright. As he shifts to bow on one knee, Valamir stands, unsheathing his sword. “Merlin, for showing more courage than any man could ever be asked to show, and for saving my life, I can go no further without honoring these actions.” Removing the chain hidden beneath his shirt, he gently places it around Merlin’s neck, resting it atop his scarf. “This pendant bears the symbol of my people. Wear it, and they will know you are a welcomed member in my land. And when they ask your name,” he taps either of Merlin’s shoulders with his sword, “you will tell them to address you as Sir, as you are so deserving of the title.”

….

“Thank you,” Merlin leaps up to embrace Valamir in his arms. It’s a fatal blow, Arthur dunking his head. He can’t watch anymore. 

“Arthur…” 

“Let’s go.”

Not a word is spoken the entire trip back to his chambers and when Gwaine offers to stay and find a way to fix this, Arthur refuses and dismisses him. He needs to be alone. 

Never in his life did he think he could feel more lowly of himself. How could he, someone who claims to love this man so much, forego so many blatantly deserved courtesies? 

A knighting. The title is purely honorary. Merlin can barely manage a few moves with a sword but that isn’t the point and Arthur should have known that. The look on Merlin’s face…

And the pendant. Arthur had a special crest made for Merlin that he wanted to present to him when he made him Court Sorcerer. One that would show proudly over the latch of his ceremonial cape. He smiles slightly, remembering how he debated whether to have a new ceremonial hat made as well. Oh, how he could tease him. But no, he wanted Merlin to enjoy the occasion. 

But none of that mattered now. Now, he sees all his shortcomings. All his mistakes. All his regret. Merlin has made his choice and Arthur doesn’t fault him for it. He only faults himself for believing anything he built would be good enough for Merlin to stay. 

A deep, terrible part of him wishes he never called Valamir here. That Merlin never knew such a perfect man and a perfect kingdom existed where Arthur couldn’t reach. But what does that say about his kingdom then? That Merlin should have settled for his mediocre attempt for peace? With the fury and grief he inherited from his father’s reign, Arthur will probably never know true unity. 

There will always be a right he has to wrong. A grievance that demands vengeance. A debt he has to repay. Merlin has stood by his side for ten years and he has found somewhere new. Somewhere he can just be, and not question his being. Someone he won’t have to risk his life for, and someplace he won’t have to protect. He’ll be… free. 

It is every bit of what he deserves and Arthur is happy for him.

He lifts his head from his window at the sound of a knock, Merlin stepping in slowly. And so it begins. 

“Since when do you knock before entering my room,  _ Mer _ lin?”

“I-...” How can a conversation that hasn’t even happened yet make him so tired? His heart can’t take this being dragged out longer than necessary. 

“Is there something you need?”

“I- Umm.” His mouth falls slack again. “I- I, uh.” For Gods sake,  _ out with it! _ “I-... I can finish the treaty!” 

_ What? _ “What?”

“The treaty. With King Valamir.” Truly, it seems neither of them know what’s spilling out of Merlin’s mouth. “He mentioned to me earlier that you two never signed a treaty. I think- I mean if he had a little more time to learn about Camelot and its people, I could convince him to be our ally.”

This? This is the lie he’s going with? How did he take so long to realize Merlin was hiding his magic? This is terrible. He plays along anyways. “But he’s leaving today.”

“Right, so… I thought maybe I would go with him.” The words wash over him like a cold breeze, even when he was expecting them. “It’ll only be for two weeks!” 

That almost sounded believable. As much as he wants to, he can’t bring himself to tease and banter Merlin over his decisions this time. “Very well.” Ah, Merlin almost looks suspicious. “But expect double the chores when you return.” 

Arthur imagines the blinding smile that makes his heart skip is one of malice, pleased with the deception that he’ll ever return to do those chores. Then, he reminds himself Merlin could never be so cruel. He must be very happy to leave, that’s all. 

Lengthy arms are wrapped around him before he can blink and he struggles not to return the hug just to trap Merlin to him forever. “Thank you, Arthur.” 

“You can thank me by pouring me my wine at tonight’s farewell feast.”

“Ah.”  _ Oh.  _ “King Valamir plans on leaving before tonight’s feast.”

“Really.” Breathe. “How soon?”

Merlin’s fingers rub together painfully. “Immediately, Sire. I just need to pack my bags.” 

He's honestly surprised he hadn't already cleaned out his room. "I see. Then, I shall give orders to cancel tonight's celebration. I… will let you go and pack. I have other duties to attend to, anyways." 

"I really do appreciate this, Arthur. When I get back, I'll steal as many cakes from the kitchen as you'd like. And I won't make a single joke about your belt, promise." 

"The cooks will surely not miss you while you're away." Not like he will. "Hurry up and go, before I change my mind." 

They leave before mid-day, Merlin glancing back twice to smile and wave farewell. Arthur decides he will lift the ban tomorrow, instead, and doesn't leave his room for the rest of the day. 

….

What a trip. 

The two weeks sped by in a whirlwind, starting even before they officially arrived. It was a long ride to the border of Valamir's kingdom and as they made their camp for the night, Merlin called The Great Dragon at last. He arrived some hours later, clearly confused by the long flight to meet this mysterious king. Merlin just assured him he would understand in the morning. 

Kilgharrah was less than pleased at trekking by foot to the border, and said as much out loud, but the moment they stepped past the invisible barrier, everything changed. 

Like a beautiful melody striking his ears the moment they passed the threshold, Merlin could  _ hear _ the faint whispers of a hundred dragonlords and their dragons' response. 

Kilgharrah was frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared off to the far mountain. 

"Hey," Merlin had called, the dragon turning to meet his gaze. "It's ok," he nods. "Go." 

A shiny gloss covered those giant globes and, with a power Merlin had never seen before, Kilgharrah burst off the ground and towards the voices calling him home. 

By the time they reached the mountain, the sun was setting and Kilgharrah was nestled in his den, fast asleep with a dozen dragons of varying ages twirled and snuggled against him. He looked happy, and that was enough for Merlin so they kept going on towards the castle. 

The welcoming party was… incredible. Shining orbs of every color floated above their path, leading them to the citadel where crowds of people cheered their arrival. Sorcerers shot beams of light into the sky that exploded in the most beautiful way. 

It was mesmerizing, but nothing could tear Valamir's gaze for the man waiting at the bottom of the steps, the king leaping off his horse and running into those waiting arms. 

The rest is a blur. 

He studied magic and maps and medicine and more. He spoke to dragonlords and courts and citizens and magical creatures. He ate meals with sorcerers and dragons and Valamir's husband, Rowyn, who was even greater than the stories he heard. The way magic itself was woven into their everyday life made Merlin want to weep and he almost never wanted to leave. 

Almost. 

"Do you have everything you need? An extra canteen of water, or perhaps-"

"Rowyn, my love," Valamir pacifies, easing his hands from Merlin's bags and into his own. "You'll overwork this poor horse if you give her anything more to carry."

"This man saved your life, I'm allowed to spoil him." 

Merlin can't help but laugh. "Thank you, truly, but I have accepted more than enough gratitude from you." 

His bags were full of ancient scrolls, books of spells and botany and medical techniques, history books and bestiaries alike. He'd feel bad if they weren't all copies of the original. Thankfully, magic makes quick work of writing things down. 

"Well I still have plenty of gratitude to spare. Be sure to let us know when you've gotten through these, I'm more than happy to send more. And feel free to write any time. We will be demanding another visit from you soon." 

The words somehow seem as serious as they are playful and Valamir shakes his head, planting a kiss on his husband's lips as the man slips away. 

"That was very much a threat," he chuckles. "Are you sure you haven't changed your mind? There are plenty of rooms here in the castle for you if you wish to stay." 

"Yes, Val. My home is in Camelot with Arthur. Seeing such a wonderful place, I want to help Camelot become more beautiful like this. I can show the people how to accept magic back into their lives and help heal the wounds The Purge inflicted on them and the land. It's not going to be easy, but I want to try." 

"Hmm," he says, a soft smile on his face. "You know, I had no idea what to expect when I found out I'd be meeting the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Now, I'm not sure the magic is the most impressive part… There is a goodness in you, Merlin. It calls to those around you to try harder, to be better. After getting to know you, I get it now. Pendragon never had a chance and neither did I. And then there's the real reason he called me to Camelot, that sly bastard…"

Merlin blinks at that. "Wait, what real reason? What does that mean?" 

"No, no. I'm not going to ruin the surprise. Just have a safe journey and tell that prat I'll be back in one year for inspection. Then, maybe, we can talk about a treaty." 

He's still confused but resists the urge to push further, simply nodding and waving goodbye. The dragons soar above and cheer his name as he rides out of the kingdom, Kilgharrah roaring his farewell to the young dragonlord:  _ Until next time. _

He takes more breaks than he had on the journey there, letting his horse rest from all the extra weight. The nights by the fire are warm and content, Merlin wrapped in a blanket with a book on his lap. 

Luckily, as they neared the castle, Merlin recognized the familiar paths enough to guide his horse through the darkness. By the time they pass through Camelot's gates, it's the dead of night and the kingdom is asleep. Well, mostly asleep. From down below, flickers of candlelight shine through the king's bedroom window and Merlin can't stop himself from wanting to check in on him. 

After tiptoeing his things into his room, making sure not to wake Gaius, he takes his usual route to Arthur's chambers, waving hello to the few guards he sees along the way. 

With a small shot of magic to keep the door from creaking, Merlin pokes his head inside, catching sight of the slumped figure at Arthur's desk. 

Merlin smiles at his snoring king and debates whether to wake him and move him to the bed. The angle of his neck did seem troubling. Fine. 

"Arthur," he whispers, fingers running up his arm to curl around his bicep. "Arthur, let's get you to bed, yes? Come on." 

Sky blue eyes flutter weakly, unable to stay completely open for longer than a second before crashing closed again. 

He mutters a few times, still dreaming, and lifts his head towards his servant. "Mm, Merlin. Miss you." 

The red blush covering his cheeks has as much to do with the words as Arthur's sudden desire to bury his nose into the crook of Merlin's neck. 

"I-I missed you, too… Into bed, now. You have to walk. That's it." 

The king goes limp the second his head hits the pillow, all his muscles lax except for the ones in his hand which are currently locked around Merlin's wrist. 

"Umm, Sire?" He shakes his arm gently, then not very gently at all, unable to free himself from Arthur's death grip. "Arthur, come on. I'm tired, too." 

"Stay," he slurs and Merlin huffs angrily. "Don't leave me…  _ please..."  _

Damn his heart for stuttering at such sweetly spoken words. The man just had to be asleep when he said them. Of course. 

"Alright, but you better remember this was your fault when you wake up. I refuse to be thrown in the stocks for this." 

It takes a long moment of several considerations to determine that, with his arm trapped, the only way to lay on the right side of the bed (Arthur taking the left) is for Merlin to physically climb over him. Yes. This is his life. And he might just die from embarrassment. 

He takes a breath, mentally mapping his moves, then takes another breath. He can do this. 

His weight tilts the mattress so he goes slowly to ensure he doesn't accidentally slide Arthur off as he tries to get on. 

He's struggling to  _ unstraddle  _ Arthur's hips when the man decides to tug Merlin down to his chest, rolling them over so he's half on top of the man, their legs tangled together. 

He's definitely going to the dungeons for this. 

….

It's a quiet morning like always. Just three days of George's terribly bland jokes and demeanor and Arthur was saying to hell with a manservant, he could wake and dress himself in the mornings. That of course means he's been waking up at his desk more often than not. Though, his back doesn't ache and protest like it normally does, and he's much warmer. The fire has usually gone out by now. 

Peeking one eye open does little at first, the room a blur as he tries to focus his vision. When it does, the black mop of hair suddenly becomes apparent, as does the thin limbs wrapped around him. 

" _ Merlin..?"  _

It takes Merlin all of two seconds to blink awake, flinching violently as he tries to untangle himself from the man. 

"ARTHUR! I- Please say you remember. You have to. I didn't have a choice, you wouldn't let go and-" 

Arthur hauls the man to his chest, hugging him tightly. 

"Is this a dream…?" 

"Umm… no?" He slumps in his embrace. "But you're hugging me… Maybe I should be the one asking that."

"I just thought I'd never see you again." 

"What?" Merlin sits up, pulling Arthur with him even though the king refuses to meet his eyes. "Arthur, I told you it was just for two weeks." 

"And you were supposed to be back two days ago!" 

"Ah." Hmm. "I let my horse have lots of breaks on our way back. Valamir and Rowyn gave me a lot of gifts to take home and it really weighed her down." 

"You- Wait. Who's Rowyn?" 

"H-" Oh. Whoops. Ugh, hopefully Valamir won't mind him sharing just one thing about his personal life. "Rowyn is Valamir's husband. A great man, really. I can tell they really love each other." 

The information was meant to clear some confusion, not add to it. Arthur looks even more dumbfounded than before. 

"His…  _ husband."  _

"Yes. And, I'm sorry to report I wasn't able to negotiate any type of treaty. Though, Valamir did say that he would be back in a year to 'inspect' Camelot? Whatever that means. But he said he would be willing to talk then. I think that means there's hope for Albion yet." 

His concern only grows at the king's blank expression. He thought he'd be ecstatic. Albion is closer and closer in reach. This is their dream. Perhaps Arthur is still too tired to fully comprehend the news. 

That's when Merlin realizes he's still in Arthur's bed. 

" _ Wait! _ " Arthur catches his wrist as he begins to stand. All that fear. Merlin kneels before him, taking his hands in his own. 

"Arthur, what is going on? What's wrong? Did something happen while I was away?" 

There’s probably a better way to phrase this but he’s honestly struggling to breath, let alone think. “Why did you come back?” No, don’t make that face. “I mean- Wait. Stop frowning. I meant… You were getting along so well with Valamir. His kingdom was perfect. Why give it up to come back here?”

Merlin’s incredulous smile is like a smack to the head. “Arthur… I’m not giving anything up. I came back because Camelot is my home. I wouldn’t leave it for anything. And what do you mean his kingdom is perfect?”

A knock on the door cuts them short, Arthur stomping out of bed to answer it. 

“Ah, Sire. I just wanted to-” Leon peeks over his shoulder, a bright smile stretching over his face. “Merlin! I knew you’d return to us. See, Sire, we told you there was no reason to doubt.” Arthur can hear Merlin chuckling behind him. “Oh! Has Arthur told you the good news, yet?”

“What good-”

“Sir Leon. You needed something?”

The knight turns his grin back towards his king, shaking his head. “Just making sure you weren’t still asleep at your desk. I could tell how uncomfortably stiff your muscles were during training yesterday. I almost won our match.” 

“That’s his own fault for not putting himself to bed.” Merlin interrupts, nudging Arthur aside to face Leon head on. “What good news are you talking ab-”

Arthur clasps a hand over Merlin’s mouth and pulls him inside to shut the door behind them, Leon’s laughter muffled through the walls. 

“Ah, ah,” Arthur shushes when Merlin breaks free. “I’ll tell you, but first you have to sit down.”

Without a glance, Merlin reaches out for one of the chairs at the table, spinning it around to perch himself on it gracefully. His smugness would be irritating if Arthur hadn’t missed the idiot so damn much.

“Well?”

Arthur sighs. He grabs his own chair from its spot near the fireplace and sits. 

“Merlin…” There truly is no easy way to say this with Merlin’s big eyes blinking up at him like that. “Did you hear any news about Camelot as you reentered the kingdom?”

“No? Though, I mostly camped by myself in the woods. I didn’t see many people that could share news if they had any.”

“I see.” Here he goes. “Two weeks ago…” Oh, wait, he has an idea. Scrambling to his wardrobe, he opens the bottom drawer, pulling out a long box. “Here, open this.”

Merlin’s startles as Arthur kneels before him. It doesn’t stop him from accepting the gift, though, and he gingerly removes the lid. 

“ _ Oh, _ ” Merlin whispers, fingers tracing the intricate details of the crest. He lifts the red cape up and feels the soft material under his grip. “This is beautiful, Arthur. Whose is it?”

“It’s yours.” Blue irises flicker to his. “I had it made because I wanted my new Court Sorcerer to have something nice to wear during official events.”

The sudden jerk of his knee nearly sends the box flying, Arthur’s hands shooting out to hold it down. And they stay there, a hesitant pressure on Merlin’s leg. 

“C-Court…” 

“Sorcerer, yes. You’ve technically already started the job by acting as an ambassador, traveling to Valamir’s homeland in hopes of forming a stronger union between our kingdoms. At least that’s what I told my council. They don’t know you didn’t even know about the job. Or that I was lifting the ban on magic. Or that you didn’t know I knew about your magic…” The look on Merlin’s face. Arthur could probably poke him with a needle and he wouldn’t even flinch. “Surprise?”

His words are drawn out in his fight to find another word to come after it. “Y-...You…”

“Take your time, Merlin. Don’t hurt yourself rushing.” 

“You… lifted the ban.”

“Yes, the day after you and Valamir left. I was going to do it that night at the feast but my guest of honor decided to go on a spontaneous vacation.”

“You know about… me.”

“Your magic? Yes. As do the Gwaine and Leon and Elyan and Percival. And now, Gwen and probably the rest of the kingdom, seeing as I dedicated the lifting of the ban to you and all you’ve done for Camelot and her people.”

“They know… And you know. You knew longer. And you-... You don’t…  _ hate… _ me?”

Arthur can’t help his gentle huff. “No, Merlin. I don’t hate you… Quite the opposite, actually. But please don’t feel obligated to return my affections. I-”

Lengthy arms wrap around his neck before he can blink, Merlin’s lips sealed against his. He pushes a hand through that raven hair, tugging him closer. 

Merlin traces his hand along the line of Arthur’s jaw, watery eyes wandering over every inch of his face as he chuckles wetly. “You love me.”

“I do. I love you.”

Merlin kisses him soundly and breaks them apart just to press their foreheads together. “I love you, too. I’m so lucky, I’m so happy.” Several kisses pepper along his cheeks. “I told Valamir you were a good man. I told him you weren’t your father, that you were better. And you are. Thank you, thank you.”

“You can thank Valamir, too.” He presses his lips firmly to his for a long second. “Not with kisses, of course, but verbally. I didn’t actually invite him here to negotiate a treaty.” Merlin stares at him in wonder. “My father had so much of our history with magic burned during the purge. I spent months trying to formulate a thorough and complete law that would account for even the little nuances of daily life with magic, but… I needed help. I wanted advice. So, I invited Valamir to review my documents, to answer questions about how he handles certain situations in his kingdom, and to add anything he thought I might be missing.”

“Huh.” Merlin thinks back to that night after Arthur and Valamir’s first meeting, then to when Merlin was leaving and Valamir hinted at a ‘real’ reason he was invited to Camelot. “You are quite good at keeping secrets.”

“Better than you. Do you know how obvious you can be with your magic sometimes? Honestly, Merlin, if I had a fraction of the hatred for magic that my father had-”

Merlin just kisses him again, Arthur sighing into it. They could talk about it later.

They had the rest of their lives, after all. 

  
  



End file.
